The foreign leader's gaze met Tian Shen's across the battlefield, cold steel against silver fire. For the first time, his mask of arrogance cracked, a flicker of caution surfacing in his eyes.
He raised his artifact-imbued gauntlet, channeling a torrent of fractured qi that warped the air itself. The mountain trembled, disciples bracing under its oppressive weight.
Yet Tian Shen stepped forward, calm as the roots of the earth. His spear thrummed like thunder, silver flames roaring higher, answering challenge with defiance.
Each step was a vow: he would not yield. This battle was no longer Feilun's defense—it was Tian Shen's declaration.
The mountain air burned with frost and ash.
